Emily nodded.

“Me neither.”

It was the first moment of humor either woman had experienced all morning.

Across the aisle, an elderly woman leaned toward Naomi.

“I hope you don't mind me saying this.”

“Go ahead.”

“I would have screamed at him.”

Naomi smiled.

“That's probably why you would have made a better target.”

The woman laughed.

As the aircraft climbed above the clouds, Naomi finally allowed herself to breathe.

But the battle was only beginning.

In New York, Elena met her with a team of attorneys and investigators.

Clark Dunning had agreed to cooperate fully.

Peter Rowe had done the same.

Their evidence painted a far larger picture than Naomi had expected.

Harrison Hale's scheme had extended across multiple transportation companies.

There were emails showing private information being purchased.

Financial records showing suspicious consulting contracts.

Internal reports manipulated to create crises that Hale's firm could later “solve.”

Within weeks, federal investigators opened cases involving wire fraud, commercial bribery, data theft, and obstruction.

Meridian Atlantic terminated every contract connected to Hale, Dunning and Cross.

The company began legal proceedings to recover the money it had paid.

News outlets quickly discovered the story.

They loved the dramatic version.

A wealthy consultant tried to throw a woman out of first class.

The woman turned out to be the airline's new CEO.

A captain refused to take off.

But Naomi knew the real story was deeper.

One evening, Clark asked to speak with her privately.

Elena objected.

Naomi agreed anyway.

Clark entered the conference room carrying a sealed envelope.

He looked exhausted.

“I didn't know about all of it,” he said.

Naomi didn't respond.

“I knew Harrison manipulated the consulting contracts. I knew he paid people for information.”

“Why didn't you stop him?”

Clark looked down.

“Because I liked my salary.”

Naomi appreciated the honesty.

“At least you understand your part in it.”

Clark placed the envelope on the table.

“There's something else.”

Naomi opened it after he left.

Inside was an old photograph.

A younger Harrison Hale stood beside another man.

Naomi stopped breathing.

She recognized the second man.

Thomas Carter.

Her father.

Thomas had worked as a financial auditor for a regional airline before it eventually became part of Meridian Atlantic.

He had died when Naomi was seventeen.

His car had left an icy road outside Pittsburgh.

The death had been ruled an accident.

Naomi had spent years trying not to think about it.

But beneath the photograph was a copy of an old report.

Her father had written it shortly before his death.

It described hidden kickback payments involving aircraft maintenance contracts.

And there, near the bottom of another document, was a name.

Harrison Hale.

Twenty-six years earlier, he had been a junior attorney.

One of the lawyers involved in suppressing the investigation.

Naomi read the documents until midnight.

At the bottom of the final page was a handwritten note.

Her father's handwriting.

If anything happens to me, the records are hidden where Naomi learned to fly.

Naomi stared at the words.

She had never learned to fly.

Not an airplane, anyway.

Then suddenly, she remembered.

When she was a child, her father used to take her to a hill near a small municipal airport.

They would lie in the grass and watch airplanes rise into the evening sky.

At the bottom of that hill stood an abandoned observation shed.

Naomi folded the note.

For twenty-six years, her father had been gone.

But perhaps the truth about him had been waiting exactly where he left it.

And now, she intended to find it.

Three days later, Naomi stood on the hill from her childhood.

The grass was taller than she remembered.

The small municipal airport below had changed over the years. New hangars had been built. The old terminal had been replaced. But the abandoned wooden observation shed still stood at the edge of the hill.

It leaned slightly to one side.

Time had stripped paint from its walls.

Naomi stood beside Elena Ruiz and two federal agents.

For a moment, she couldn't move.

She remembered her father's voice.

People think flying is about escaping gravity.

It isn't.

It's about understanding gravity well enough that it cannot hold you down.

As a child, Naomi had thought it was simply something beautiful her father said.

Now she wondered if he had been trying to teach her how to survive.

The agents entered the shed.

They searched the walls.

The ceiling.

The old cabinets.

Nothing.

Naomi walked slowly across the floor.

Then she stopped.

Near the window was a loose wooden board.

She knelt.

Her fingers slipped beneath the edge.

The board lifted.

Underneath was a metal box wrapped in deteriorating plastic.

No one spoke.

One of the agents carefully removed it.

The lock had rusted.

But the box opened.

Inside were maintenance invoices.

Bank transfer records.

Photographs.

Recorded conversations.

For the next several hours, investigators carefully documented every piece of evidence.

Naomi sat quietly beside Elena.

Then an agent handed her a page.

Her father's name appeared at the top.

Thomas Carter had discovered that senior airline executives were accepting bribes in exchange for approving defective replacement parts.

Harrison Hale hadn't caused Thomas Carter's death.

But he had helped conceal the corruption.

Naomi felt anger rising.

Then she saw another name.